


The Ghost in the Myers House

by Alexis_Madeline



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Michael is baby and that’s that!, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader is just mom sometimes and that's just how it is, References to Halloween Murders, Slice of Life, Supernatural Elements, ghost!michael, tw for each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21678586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis_Madeline/pseuds/Alexis_Madeline
Summary: You’ve come to the conclusion that your house is haunted. It’s no surprise, really. This is, after all, the Myers house.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader
Comments: 29
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I’m not very good with titles so please forgive me for that;; 
> 
> This idea has been in my head for a little while and I’ve been dying to write it! I even have Chapter 2 written out! 
> 
> I really hope you guys will like this uwu lol

You’ve come to the conclusion that your house is haunted. It’s no surprise, really. This is, after all, the Myers house. 

You wonder if the ghosts are his victims. But then again, you think that ghosts only haunt the places they die in so maybe it’s the sisters’ ghost. 

You feel sorry for her, so you don’t try to exorcise her out of her home. She was here first. So you talk out loud to give her company. 

You felt like someone was constantly watching you. Sleeping was a bit difficult. But you eventually got used to it. 

You would see shadows move in the corner of your eyes. Of course, there was never anything there when you would look. 

You started to sleepwalk, and oftentimes wake up standing in the kitchen with one of your large kitchen knives in your hand.

You’d blink, registering the knife before talking to the ghost in your house. 

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” You would say every time, “I hope you can find peace one day and not hold onto this tragedy.” 

Sometimes, you would hear footsteps. They were too heavy to have been from a young woman. It made your spine chill when you thought that Michael was still alive and had snuck in to kill you. 

But that wasn’t possible. He died in Smith’s Grove. So you were fine. Hopefully. 

When you make food, you leave a little bit of extra on a plate on the dining room table. Just to be nice. There was never a bite taken out of it of course but you figured you would appreciate the gesture if you were a ghost. 

“When I go to work, I see this guy straight up grope my coworker,” You exclaim one night while you’re making a stir fry, “And the poor girl, she doesn’t know what to do because she’s new so she just pushes him off and laughs nervously.” You shake your head, “So I storm up to him, grab him by the shirt and go, ‘Hey! What the hell was that just now?!’ And this guy tries to play stupid!” 

You hear footsteps approaching you from behind and you resist the urge to look back, “The girl, I don’t know her name yet, she starts panicking saying it’s okay that she doesn’t want to cause trouble, and I’m about to beat the hell outta this guy!”

You set your spatula down and walk to the cabinet with your plates. You take two and set them down beside you. 

“So my boss, Dwight, walks in and is like ‘Woah woah, hey what’s going on here?!’ And I tell him everything while I’m still holding this asshole! I say, ‘What happened is that I’m going to beat the hell out of this son of a bitch for sexually harassing this woman!’”

You put food on both plates and turn off the stove. 

“And obviously Dwight is shocked! He’s like, ‘Oh my god did that really happen?’ And the girl tells him yes and the guy tries to say it was an accident,” You rant as you walk to the dining room table, “So Dwight pulls me off, and the guy starts accusing ME of sexual harassment!”

You set down the plates and put a hand on your hip, “Can you believe that?! The audacity!”

You walk to the fridge and take out 2 cans of soda. 

“But anyways, guess they caught him on camera so now he’s fired. They had a chat with me though, said I ‘shouldn't have handled it like that.’” You mock your employer’s voice while you do air quotes.

You sit down at the table, despite usually eating in your room or on the couch, “So today was a good day,” You smile at the empty chair in front of you. 

“I can’t stand guys who do that. I remember how bad they used to be in high school,” You take a bite of your food, “I used to get in fights a lot, actually.” 

You take a few bites and sigh, “Yeah, I hated high school, too many assholes.” You take a sip of soda, “What was high school like for you?” 

You don’t expect an answer. But even more so, you don’t expect the plate to fly off the table and shatter against the wall. 

You freeze, fork almost in your open mouth. You blink, “Sorry,” You mutter before taking another bite, “I didn’t mean to offend you.” 

You finish your food and clean up the mess. You ignore the presence behind you as you do so. 

You take NyQuil that night because you have a feeling you wouldn’t sleep well otherwise. Despite that, you still wake up in the middle of the night, dying of thirst. So you get out of bed and stumble to the kitchen, your body feeling heavy. 

You pause when you enter the kitchen, seeing a tall figure leaning over your counter. 

“What’re you doin,” You slur, too out of it to feel scared. 

The man turns to you.

“Oh it’s Mikey,” You chuckle as you stare at the white mask and continue to your fridge, “‘Sup?”

He tilts his head, stares at you as you try to open a bottle of water. 

“What’re ya up to,” You ask, shoving the bottle cap between your teeth and twisting. 

He doesn’t respond and you get the bottle open, water spilling all over you as you spit the cap out of your mouth. You down the entire bottle in one go.

You pant, feeling better, a bit less groggy. 

“Am I still asleep?”

He takes a step towards you and you look up at him. 

“Hey there, dreamboat,” You say, swaying on your feet, “You come here often?”

He tilts his head. 

“I’m going to bed, if you want to come with me.” You try to wink, but you blink instead. 

You don’t move for a second and your eyes slip shut for a moment. When they open, you’re leaning against your fridge and Michael’s gone. You rub your eyes and walk back into your room and immediately fall asleep once you’re under the covers. 

You wake up late the next morning, still feeling sluggish. You reach for your phone on your nightstand and check the day. It’s Sunday, your day off thank god. You set the phone down and fall asleep again. 

The next time you wake up, it’s dark outside. You sit up, and rub your eyes wondering how you’ve been out for so long. 

When you open them, you realize there’s someone sitting at the foot of your bed. 

“Hi,” You say to the masked man staring you down, “Why are you in my room?” 

He tilts his head and you stare at the knife in his hands. 

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you do it after I get my next check? I’d like to have a fun last day.” 

He looks away, stands up and walks to the door. You follow him. 

In your hallway, there’s dead bodies. 

“Huh, well, this isn’t good,” You say, observing the corpses lying on the floor, “I’m guessing this was you.”

He keeps walking down the hallway and you step around the bodies, mumbling prayers for them. 

You make it to the kitchen and see a cute little boy, maybe 6 or 7, sitting on the counter. The only light in the room comes from the tiny bulb on your stove.

“Hey there,” You say, voice gentle as to not scare him off, “What are you doing sitting here in the dark?” 

He looks up to you, and his eyes are so sad. 

You walk next to him, lean against the counter. He has a knife in his hand. There’s blood on it. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” You tell him, because you believe it, “I’ll take care of you.” 

He looks down at the knife. It’s dripping blood onto the floor. You stand in front of him and hold your hand out.

“Here, a little boy shouldn’t hold onto something so dangerous,” You inch your hand closer to the knife, “I don’t want you to get hurt.” 

He jerks the knife away from you and you bring your hands to your chest, “Okay, I won’t take it if you don’t want me to.” 

He lets out a breath and looks past you. 

“You poor thing,” You say without thinking, “You must be hungry, do you want something to eat?” 

His eyes focus on you and he nods. 

“Do you want me to take you off the counter?”

He nods and outstretches his arms to you. You smile and pick him up. He’s so small and cute. His legs wrap around your torso and you hold him up with ease. 

You squeeze him tightly against you and walk him to the couch. When go to set him down, he still holds onto you. 

“You okay,” You ask, bringing him back up so you can hold onto each other.

You stand there for awhile with him gripping onto you like a lifeline. 

“You’ll be okay,” You tell him again as you set him down. 

He stares at you, his eyes wet. You bring your hand to his cheek and smile at him reassuringly. 

Hesitantly, he hands you his knife and you gently take it from his hands, “I’ll set it on the table, okay?” 

He nods and you place it on the table in front of him. 

You blink. It’s bright outside now, the windows are pouring sunlight into the room. 

You turn back to the couch and the boy is gone. 

You look at your hand again. 

“What,” You question out loud, trying to process what’s happening. 

You pick up the clean kitchen knife and tilt your head. 

“Oh,” You rub your eyes with your other hand, “I was sleepwalking again.” 

You take the knife and put it back in its drawer. 

You take a few breaths before walking to your bedroom and picking up your phone. 

It’s 11:24 AM. 

You feel a presence behind you so you ask, “What would you like for breakfast, Michael?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: There is a slight reference to rape in this chapter- if you’d rather skip that then avoid reading the italics

Breakfast, as it turns out, is uneventful. You make pancakes with strawberries on the side. 

“So, Michael,” You start, kind of awkward as you prepare the food, “What are you doing here?” 

There’s no answer, as you expect, so you continue to make a plate for the two of you. You sit at the dining room table and pull out your phone while you eat. 

‘Michael Myers’ is what you type in Google when you are in your seat. 

Several articles are displayed to you- many focusing on the psychology of Myers, some focusing on the brutality of his murders. You choose one at random and skim through it.

_Due to the consistent emotional and psychological abuse endured by Michael from Smith’s Grove, his perception of himself became warped. The doctor assigned to him, Dr. Samuel Loomis, repeatedly harassed him with explicit photos of his sister taken by the police. This psychological trauma started at just 7 years old._

You wince at the thought of showing a child such images. How could Loomis have thought that was a good idea? 

_Loomis, who was very new to the psychological field- with only 1 year of college experience- would constantly torment Michael. When Michael refused to communicate verbally, nurses say he would hit him._

Your eyes widen. Hit him?! Was that even allowed?! 

_Michael was confined to a dark room most days, on Dr Loomis’ orders. Despite this, many nurses would take him out of his cell and walk him in the garden when Loomis was not on the property._

You smile, happy that the women in the sanitarium felt sympathy for the poor child. 

_Nurse Swanson seemed to take a liking to him, according to several other staff members reports. Despite her efforts to get him to open up to her, he never budged, much to the confusion of her coworkers. It wasn’t until September 18th 1965 when Nurse Sanchez stumbled upon the two in a secluded area of the garden._

__

__

_Swanson, with only her undergarments to cover her, was taking off Michael’s clothing._

You grip your phone, horrified, angry.

_Sanchez, shocked, froze in place. She watched the two as the gears in her head began to turn. Michael was silently crying and Swanson was coaxing him to lay down for her. When Swanson began to pull down her underwear, Sanchez sprung into action. She pulled her off of the 8 year old and, according to her testimony, “[...] did what [I felt] was necessary... broke her face.”_

__

__

_True to her statement, Swanson’s face was damaged quite severely. Both eyes were blacked out, 3 teeth broken, a broken jaw, a broken nose, a split lip, both cheekbones broken._

You grin when you see the picture of Swanson’s face. Though the photo is black and white and grainy, the damage is certainly there. Her eyes were swollen shut and her face is quite a mess, barely a face, in fact. 

_“Michael was the one to stop me…” Sanchez stated to the police, “The poor kid witnessed the entire thing and he couldn’t stop staring at the mess I made even when I carried him away.”_

__

__

_Swanson and Sanchez were fired from their jobs, with Swanson only receiving 1 year in prison._

You frown, bite your lip. Seems like an awfully light sentence, you think.

_Loomis became especially strict after this incident, staying in the Sanitarium everyday. Michael was completely off limits to the nurses, and thus his time outside was completely cut off._

__

__

_The abuse was everyday, for several years. Loomis would constantly scream at Michael and eventually created a new name for him: Evil Incarnate._

You press your lips together and furrow your brow. How horrible. How could any of the other doctors on staff let that happen?

_With Loomis as his only form of contact, Michael’s perception of himself twisted into the ugly imagery that was forced into his head. He was evil, and nothing more. A killer. Evil Incarnate._

__

_There’s a term for this: Self-Fulfilling Prophecy. Coined in 1948 by Robert Merton in order to describe “a false definition of the situation evoking a new behavior which makes the originally false conception come true.”_

__

_In easier-to-understand terms, this means that if you believe in the outcome something enough it will come true._

__

_Michael Myers believed in Loomis’ words, if his sudden violent outbursts were anything to go off of, and thus became the Boogeyman of Haddonfield._

You set your phone down, too saddened by the story to read more. You look up and Michael is sitting there. 

“What an asshole,” You say and Michael tilts his head, “Loomis, I mean. He was a shitty person.” 

Michael looks away from you.

“Well, he’s gone now so let’s focus on breakfast, yeah?” 

He looks back at you. 

“You want me to turn away so you can eat?”

He gives you a slight nod and you stand up and turn your chair around. You take your plate and sit down, taking a bite of a strawberry. 

“Hope you like it, I usually don’t make pancakes but I was craving something sweet.”

You hear the latex of his mask shift around and the sound of the fork hitting the plate.

You reach behind you and grab your phone, going on YouTube to look through your subscriptions. You click on a makeup tutorial and watch as you eat, knowing you won’t ever do the makeup in that video. 

When it ends you’re finished with your plate, “Are you done eating? I can make more if you want.”

There’s no sound.

“Can I turn around?”

Nothing.

“Um, knock once for yes, twice for no.”

…

“Okay, well, I’m turning around so be ready.”

You slowly turn around and realize that he’s not even there anymore. The plate is cleaned off along with the apple juice you left out.

“Where’d you go,” You ask as you pick up his dishes and place them in the sink. There’s no response so you shrug and clean the dishes and set them in the dishwasher. 

“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” You say. 

When you walk in the hallway, you hear footsteps behind you and you quickly turn around. There’s nothing there. You press your lips together and close the door to your room. 

After about an hour of typing away on your laptop, you take a break and rub your eyes. When you open them Michael is sitting on your bed, staring right at you.

You jump, let out a yelp and bring your hand to your chest as if to still your pounding heart.

“Você me assustou,” You breathe out and clear your throat when he tilts his head, “You scared me,” You look at the door- it’s still closed.

“How’d you get in here?” 

He looks away, towards your window. You follow his gaze and, assuming he wants to see what’s outside, you pull the string and open the blinds. 

It’s a bit gloomy outside, as expected. There’s slush covering the sidewalks and patches of snow on you and your neighbors lawns. 

“I wonder if it will snow tonight,” You mumble and turn to Myers, “Do you like snow?”

He gives a slight shrug and you nod. You look at his clothes.

“Are you cold?”

He looks back at you.

“Your overalls don’t look thick enough to keep you warm,” You gesture to your fuzzy pajamas, “I’d offer you something like these but I doubt they would fit.”

He tilts his head.

“I have hot chocolate, do you want some?” 

He stands up and takes two steps towards you, looming. You stare up at him.

“Yes?” 

…

He nods. 

“Okay,” You step around him and he trails right behind you. It makes you kind of nervous. 

“I have the fancy shmancy type of mix,” You hold up the container of Ghirardelli cocoa powder, “So it’s gonna take a minute.” 

He leans on the counter behind you and watches. 

You take milk out of the fridge and pour it into a small pot and start the fire. 

“So,” You turn around and hop on the counter away from the stove to sit down, “What are you doing here? Previous owner never said anything about a ghost.”

He tilts his head.

“Oh shit, uh,” You rub the back of your head and look away sheepishly, “I don’t know if you knew this but you’re uhm,” You look back to him and make a random gesture with your hands, “You’re uh, a ghost.” 

He doesn’t move.

“Or maybe I’m the ghost,” You hum, “One time I put a whole avocado pit in my mouth because there was still a lot of meat on it. And when I was, y’know, shlorping it, I thought, ‘If I sneezed right now, I would choke and die’ and ever since then I’ve occasionally thought, ‘What if I did die?’ Y’know what I mean?” 

He shakes his head.

“Well, either way, one of us is a ghost here.”

He walks up to you, places his hands on the counter beside your legs and stares you down. Even though you’re atop the counter, he’s still a couple inches taller. You can’t see through the eye holes in the mask and you wonder what kind of look he’s giving you. Is he glaring? 

“If I was dead,” You start, not particularly intimidated by his presence, “I wouldn’t need to be a ghost, or haunt this house.” 

He tilts his head. 

“I don’t have any really big regrets or anything so there’s no reason for me to be here.” 

He leans towards you more and you hear the breathing behind his mask. 

“If you need help moving on, I’m here to guide you through.” 

You see his right hand raise, watch as he brings it to your neck. He’s freezing cold, is all you think when it wraps around your neck. He doesn’t choke you, just applies the tiniest bit of pressure. 

You bring your hands to his and gently pry the digits off your neck. You bring his hand to your mouth and blow hot air.

He leans back a bit, tilts his head once more. 

“You’re freezing,” You clarify, “Poor thing, you could've told me you needed gloves.”

He pulls his hand away and looks at the stove instead of your face. The pot is making a slight hissing sound and you see the milk simmering inside. 

You slide off the counter, your body pressed against Michael’s.

“Here,” You take his hand and walk him to the living room. You put one hand on his shoulder and press down, sitting him on the couch. He goes along with your movement all while looking up at you. 

You turn on the TV and click on Netflix. You wonder what he would like- you’re not putting on anything remotely scary so maybe a comedy. Or maybe a cartoon. You doubt he ever watched TV as a kid. 

You scroll down to the cartoon section and pick the first thing that comes up.

“Carmen Sandiego,” You exclaim, “They made a new one?!” 

You turn up the volume so you can hear it from the kitchen. 

“Tell me if I miss anything good,” You say as you run back to the kitchen. You feel his gaze follow you on the way there. 

You add a couple tablespoons of cocoa powder to the milk and mix it together. Then you add 2 tablespoons of sugar, a pinch of salt, and a tiny bit of vanilla extract. It smells amazing. You pour it into 2 mugs and toss in a few mini marshmallows. You sigh when you realize you don’t have whipped cream. 

You walk in the room and set your cup on the coffee table and hand him his own cup, “Careful,” You say as he envelopes the mug in his hands, “It’s really hot.” 

You sit next to him and watch the show. It’s cute, watching the main character outsmart the police and escaping.

In the corner of your eye, you see him lift the mask past his lips and blow on his drink. You smile and reach for your drink and do the same. You take a tiny sip and wince when it burns your tongue. 

“Might wanna wait awhile before drinking it,” You say, setting the cup down, “It’s gonna be a long time before it’s drinkable.”

You feel Myers turn his head to you and you look at him as he takes a sip. Immediately he brings the mug away from his lips and opens his mouth to breathe in the cool air. 

You snort, “I told you.” 

He yanks his mask back down and sets the mug on the table. You stare at him a second before getting up. He copies your movements and you sit him down.

“I’m getting you a blanket, it’s okay.” 

He doesn’t stop watching you as you go into the hallway and pull out your thickest blanket. You stumble back into the living room and set it on his lap. He tilts his head at you when you sit down beside him. 

You look at him confused, “Don’t you want a blanket?” 

He looks down at it then to you. He nods. 

“Aren’t you going to unfold it?” 

He looks down at it and then to you. 

You smile, “Oh I gotta do it,” You tease him, “You’re like a baby.” 

He doesn’t make any movements as you scoot next to him and unfold it. You put a hand on his shoulder and push him forward. He obliges and you drape the blanket across his back and over his shoulders. He sits back and you adjust it so his torso is covered. 

“Hm, you wanna take off your boots so you can bring your feet on the couch?”

He looks down, then to you. He nods.

You roll your eyes and smile before kneeling down to unlace his shoes and take them off. 

“Do you want your socks off?” 

He brings his feet up to the couch and covers his whole self in the blanket. It’s ridiculously cute, a man his size all wrapped up in a bundle. The mask, with its blank expression, makes it all the more funnier.

You pick up his boots and set them beside the couch. Then you sit down next to him again and watch the show. 

On the second episode, you pick up your hot chocolate and take a small sip. It’s warm enough to drink and almost tastes like straight chocolate. 

“You can drink it now, it’s not burning.”

You smile when you see him reach for the mug and lift his mask. You hear him take a small sip. 

“Careful not to drink too fast,” You say when you hear him gulping it down, “You might choke.”

He stops and looks at you, frowning. 

“Oh,” You turn back to him, “Sorry.” You smile, embarrassed. 

He goes back to drinking, and you smile into your mug when you notice he is going much slower. 

“Do you want more,” You ask when he sets the empty mug down on the table. 

He brings his mask back down and shakes his head. 

You place your mug next to his and sink into the couch. 

“Liking the show so far?” 

He gives a small nod. 

You smile and continue to watch as the story progresses on the TV. 

When you finish your drink, you feel all warm and tired. You stretch and yawn. 

Michael turns his head to look at you and you give him a smile. 

He stretches his arm out to you, opening up his little blanket cocoon. You tilt your head before you realize what he’s conveying. 

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” You wave him off, “I don’t want to intrude on your personal space.” 

He stretches his arm out more, touching your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” You say again and you find him adorable, “I-” 

Before you can finish talking, he leans over, wraps his hand around your waist and yanks you towards him. 

You blink as he adjusts you in his lap. He wraps his arms around you, covering you in the blanket. 

“You’re pretty demanding,” You chuckle, and lean into his chest. You feel him breathing, his chest slowly moving up and down. He’s warm. 

He gives you a squeeze and you smile, the warmth making you feel even more sleepy. Your body relaxes against him. 

He dips his head into the crook of your neck. You rest your hands over his. He’s so warm and you fall asleep against him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna keep it real with y’all, I have absolutely no idea where I’m taking this exactly- there’s only very vague ideas but I hope you liked it <3
> 
> Also shout out to anyone who gets the buzzfeed unsolved reference (like Shane, I have also put a whole ass avocado pit in my mouth)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for excessive eating (not too bad, but just in case) as well as mentions of abuse, which include forced starvation. Michael has been through so much, man. 
> 
> I will mark mentions of this in between "!@#$%" so it's easy to identify and skip over. If there's any problems with this tagging or you'd like me to make better distinctions then just let me know in the comments. I'm here to give you guys an enjoyable experience, for the most part. 
> 
> Also sorry for the long wait! I had this chapter like 92% done the entire time but I was like "It's,,, not good enough!" But the end of the world is happening so who cares, man? Enjoy being Michael's new parent because that's 100% what this chapter is.

When you wake up, you’re lying down on the couch, the blanket draped over you. The TV is still playing your show.

“Michael,” You call out, rubbing your eyes as you sit up.

When you open them, you see Michael sitting in the same spot but…

“Hi there,” You smile at the little kid as he stares at you, all flustered.

“Sorry, did I scare you?”

He plays with the blanket in his lap and looks down.

“I’m sorry honey, here, let me turn on the light okay?”

He gives a small nod as you get up and walk to the light switch. Your eyes hurt from the sudden illumination but you get used to it.

You stretch, and your stomach growls.

“Are you hungry, sweetie,” You ask as you approach him.

He doesn’t give a response, just keeps looking down at the blanket.

You kneel down in front of him, an arms length away, as to not make him feel trapped, “It’s okay if you can’t tell me, but I was hoping to make something you would like.”

He looks up at you, his face flushed.

You give him a small smile, “Does spaghetti sound okay?”

He nods, giving you a small, awkward smile. He’s adorable!

“You don’t have to say yes,” You tell him, “If you want anything else you’re allowed to tell me, I won’t be upset.”

You hold out your pinky, “I promise I won’t ever be upset with you, pinky swear.”

Hesitantly, he brings his pinky out and you intertwine yours with his.

“Okay,” You resist the urge to hug him, “Are you sure you’d like spaghetti or is there something else?”

He looks down, his eyes dart left and right as if searching for the answer. He leans forward and motions for you to come closer. He cups his hands and whispers in your ear.

“Grilled cheese.”

You beam, “Grilled cheese sandwich sounds good, do you want soup with it?”

He shakes his head, timid.

“Okay, you can stay here and watch TV and I’ll bring you your food.”

He nods and brings the blanket up to his shoulders as you stand up.

You walk inside the kitchen and you don’t stop beaming as you gather all of the ingredients. Michael is the cutest kid you’ve ever seen.

You turn on the fire as you spread butter on the pieces of bread. When you finish one, you place it on the heat and stack cheese on top of it along with another buttered piece.

You feel something grab your thigh and you jump before you notice Michael.

He jumps away from you, his hands grabbing the clothing covering his chest- he’s wearing a Halloween costume, you notice- his eyes wide.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” You kneel down and hold your hands up, “I didn’t mean to scare you, you just startled me is all.”

He presses his lips together and fidgets.

“Did you need anything, honey? Is the TV working?”

He nods.

“Did you want to ask me about your food?”

He opens his mouth and closes it, thinking to himself.

“Do you want me to cut off the crust?”

He nods, his blonde hair bouncing with the motion.

“Okay, I will. Do you like it cut in half?”

He nods again.

“Is apple juice okay to drink?”

Another nod. You want to pull him in for a hug and smother his blushing cheeks in kisses! He is the definition of cute.

“Okay, did you need anything else?” You stand and flip the sandwich, happy that the first side didn’t burn.

He shakes his head and inches closer to you until his hand is holding onto the hem of your shirt. You smile at him and rest your hand on his back as he leans into you.

“You’re so cute,” You lightly ruffle his hair and he hides his face in your shirt.

“Can I lift you up?”

Without looking up to you, he stretches his arms up and nods. You chuckle as you scoop him up in your arms.

He holds onto your shoulders and pulls his face back to study you.

“How old are you, sweetie?”

He holds up 6 fingers.

“Six, huh? That’s pretty old,” You tease and he shakes his head and points at you.

“Oh? Are you saying I’m old?”

He smiles and nods vigorously. You laugh and give him a light squeeze.

“Maybe you’re right, sometimes I feel as old as time,” You sigh dramatically and he squeezes your shoulders still smiling.

You shift to hold him in one arm and you place his food on his plate. You sit him down on the counter as you pull out a knife to cut the crust off, then you cut it in half. He studies you.

You hold your arms out to him and he mimics you, allowing himself to be picked up again. You lift him with ease and take his plate in one hand and walk him back to the couch. You drape the blanket across his lap.

“I’ll bring you your apple juice and make you some more food, okay?”

He smiles and nods before he takes a bite.

You pour his drink into a plastic cup while you work on making the next sandwich. He downs the entire cup of juice when you bring it to him and you snicker, telling him you’ll bring more.

You come back with his drink and food for the both of you. He doesn’t waste any time before shoving his food into his mouth, spilling crumbs everywhere. He’s so cute!

“Careful, sweetie,” You tell him, worried he will choke. Even though it wouldn’t really matter, you suppose.

He slows down, making sure to swallow his food before taking his next bite. He gulps down his juice after he’s finished.

“You can have mine if you’re still hungry,” You nudge your plate and cup to his side of the table, “I’m not that hungry anyways,” You lie.

He shakes his head and you reach out to lightly ruffle his hair, “It’s okay if you do, I want you to be full.”

He nudges your plate back to you and you smile, taking half of the sandwich and eating.

“Can you eat the other half?”

He hesitates before taking it off the plate and slowly eating. Feeling satisfied, you shift your eyes to watch the show.

He shifts after a minute, scooting closer to you. You turn to him and see that he’s trying to lift the blanket that you’re sitting on.

“Oh, sorry hun,” You stand up and lift the blanket, doubling it over his lap.

He shakes his head when you sit down and scoots closer to you, setting half of the blanket over your legs.

“Oh,” You say, “Oh, you are just so sweet,” You beam and run your hands through his hair, “Thank you.”

He leans on you and you wrap your arms around him.

When the episode ends, you get up and gather all the dishes. Michael shoots up, holding onto your shirt.

“I’m gonna wash the dishes real quick, you can keep watching if you want to.”

He shakes his head and follows you into the kitchen. You pick him up and set him on the counter near the sink.

“Do you want more juice? Or hot chocolate?”

He shakes his head.

“Okay, just let me know if you do” You smile at him before taking the pot and pan off the stove and turning the sink on.

He watches as you scrub and rinse the dishes, his feet slightly swaying off the counter.

“I’m thinking of ordering something for dinner tonight, actually, what time is it?” You turn to the stove, it’s almost 5 PM.

“Maybe around 7 we can order something, what do you like?” You ask, setting the last cup in the dishwasher.

He stares at you, questioning.

“Let’s see,” You close your eyes, remembering what restaurants are close, “there’s a Chinese food place nearby, or Mexican food, or pizza, or-“

He slaps the counter and you open your eyes to see him nodding and smiling.

“Pizza?”

He nods.

“Yeah, I like your style,” You snicker as you lift him off the counter.

“Hey, actually, do you wanna change?”

He tilts his head.

“I might have some shirts that’ll be more comfortable for you than this.”

He looks down at his costume then nods.

“Okay, let’s see what I got for you,” You smile and walk into your room.

You set him down on your bed and go through your drawers. You pull out a plain black T-shirt- the material is definitely thicker than his costume but you wonder if it’ll keep him warm enough. You make a mental note to buy some clothes for him on your way back home tomorrow.

You feel tugging on your shirt and you turn around to see Michael point at your window.

“Oh, it’s snowing,” You lift him up and check out the view. Everything is covered in a thin layer of white.

He leans against the window, pressing his hand to it.

“Wanna go outside and check it out?”

He nods excitedly.

“Let me get you a sweater,” You say going to your closet.

You pull out one of your thicker jackets and set him down. He holds his arms out when you put his arms through the sleeves, staring out the window. It’s practically a dress on him.

“Hmm, do you have shoes?”

He nods, running to the living room.

You take a jacket for yourself and slide on a pair of sneakers before following him.

When you reach him, his shoes are on and he’s bouncing on his feet at the back door.

You smile and open the door for him and he bursts outside, arms stretched out.

He grabs at the falling flakes and observes them as they melt in his hands.

“I think we’ll be getting some heavy snow soon,” You say, walking up to him, “Maybe we can build a snowman together if you’d like?”

He beams, nods his head and picks up as much snow as he can off the ground. He smushes it all together in an attempt to make a snowball but it doesn’t work.

“We can also have a little snowball fight,” You ruffle his hair, “I’ll go easy on you so don’t worry,” You wink and he grins, showing his teeth.

He lifts his arms up and you scoop him up in your arms. He presses his nose to your cheek and you let out a fake shriek, “You’re so cold!”

He lets out a small laugh and you squeeze him a bit, “Wanna go back inside?”

He nods, holds onto you as you walk back in the house. He ruffles your hair and you feel it become wet from the snow.

“You are so cute,” You spin him in a circle and he squeezes you, hiding his face in your shoulder.

“Do you wanna take a bath so you can get warmed up? Then we can order our pizza.”

He nods.

“Okay I’ll leave you with the TV while I get everything ready, is that fine?”

He nods and you set him down on the couch before heading to your bathroom.

You start the water, waiting for it to warm up while you gather towels. When it’s a bit hot, you plug the drain and look for a spare toothbrush.

“Hey,” You say as you walk in the living room, “Purple or Blue?” You ask, holding up the toothbrushes.

He looks between them before pointing at the blue one.

You nod, “Gotcha,” then you take a step to the bathroom and turn around again, “Actually, do you want a bubble bath or-“

He nods fervently.

You chuckle, “Okay, sweetie.”

You pour your bubble bath soap under the faucet and smile when the lavender scented bubbles start forming.

“Oh right,” You mumble, before getting up and walking to the kitchen to get a cup. When you take it out of the cupboard, you turn around to find Michael standing behind you.

“You’re sneaky,” You tease kneeling down, “It’s almost ready, wanna come to the bathroom?”

He nods and holds your hand while you two walk there. The tub looks full enough and the bubbles completely cover the water in a puffy, white foam.

“Here, let’s make sure it’s not too hot,” You say, gently taking his hand and submerging it into water, “Is it okay?”

He nods, taking his hand out and smiling at the bubbles.

“Will you be okay to bathe alone?”

He stops smiling, shoots his head towards you and shakes his head, grabbing at your shirt.

“Okay,” You reassure, running your hand through his hair, “I’ll stay with you, don’t worry.”

You kneel down, “Okay, let's get this off,” You observe the costume, “Is there a zipper on the back?”

He nods, turns around for you.

“Thank you,” You say, taking the zipper and pulling downwards, “Okay, I’m gonna take it off now.” You help him shrug off the costume and he steps out of it.

“Oh, before you get in the bath, do you need to go potty?”

He turns to you and shakes his head.

“Okay, I’m gonna turn around so you can take off your underwear and get in the bath.”

He nods and you turn, hearing him shift around and get in the water.

“Can I turn around?”

He gives you a small, “Mmhm.”

You smile and turn, finding him playing with the foam.

“You’re adorable,” You say, kneeling down next to him.

He smiles at you gathering a handful of bubbles and wiping it on his face.

“You look like Santa,” You chuckle, “But way cuter!”

He gives a small laugh and you ruffle his hair, “Let’s get you clean, sweetie.”

He nods, wiping the bubbles off his face.

You dip your plastic cup in the water and pour it on his hair, making sure to avoid water getting in his face.

You repeat the process a few times.

“So,” You start, “Do you have a favorite cartoon?”

He continues playing with the water and bubbles, and gives you a shrug.

“What about a favorite color,” You ask, beginning to scrub shampoo in his hair.

He looks around and points at your shampoo bottle.

“Oh, pink?”

He shakes his head and points harder, and you realize he’s pointing at the strawberry on the label.

“Red?”

He nods.

“That’s cool, red’s a nice color,” You smile, “I had a friend who would dye her hair red all the time, maybe I can dye yours?”

He shakes his head.

You chuckle, “Maybe some other time.”

He shakes his head again and you rinse off the shampoo.

“Do you have a favorite candy?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment and you almost ask a new question but then he nods.

“Oh yeah, which one?”

He motions for you to come closer and you do, leaning into the tub so he can whisper, “100,000 bar.”

You hum, “Oh the 100 grand bar? That’s a good one,” You apply conditioner to his hair, “It’s really sweet, you like super sweet candy?”

He nods, smiling.

“I’ll buy some tomorrow.”

He smiles at you as you scrub his hair.

“I’ll buy us lots of candy and I’ll get you some clothes too,” You pour water across his hair, “That reminds me, what kind of toys do you like?”

He shrugs.

“Maybe we can watch some of those toy review channels,” You mumble to yourself, “Do you like stuffed animals?”

He shrugs.

You pour more water, “Hm, maybe toy cars?”

He shrugs.

“Action figures?”

Another shrug.

“That’s okay, we’ll figure it out together,” You run your hands through his hair, making sure the conditioner is out.

“I wish Toys R Us was still in business,” You murmur, “I’d love to take you there,” You say without thinking.

He stops playing in the water and looks away from you, dejected.

“Ah-“ You freeze, “Sorry I don’t mean to say, uhm,” You fumble, trying to figure out what to say, “We can actually buy you lots of toys online so it’s the same thing but better because we don’t have to leave the house.”

He looks at you, questioning.

“Yeah, we can buy toys from my phone, we can do that after we eat pizza, does that sound good?”

He gives a small smile, nods.

You sigh in relief and smile back, “Cool, sounds like a plan.”

You shift away, going under your sink to grab a clean luffa for him. You submerge it in the bath water before pouring your body wash onto it.

You lightly scrub his arms and torso, “What kind of pizza should we order?”

He shrugs as you pour water over his shoulders.

“I got a very serious question,” He looks at you, brows furrowed, “Do you like pineapple on pizza?”

He shakes his head, scrunches his face.

You laugh, “You’ve got good taste then!”

He smiles and you quickly scrub over his legs and feet underwater.

“I think we’re done, you ready to get out?”

He nods and you stand up, grabbing a towel to wrap him up in.

“Okay,” You unfold it and hold it out, “Whenever you’re ready to get out.”

He stands up and you envelope him in the giant towel. He smiles, leaning himself against you. His arms shrug out of it and raise up.

You chuckle, “Let me drain the bath and I’ll lift you, okay?”

He turns around and pulls the plug out by himself before turning back to you, one arm holding his towel up and one outstretched to you.

You smile, “Thank you, you little cutie,” You lift him up and walk him to your room. You turn on your personal heater while you grab a shirt for him to wear.

“Oh shoot,” You mumble, taking it off the dresser, “I don’t have underwear that would fit you.”

He doesn’t say anything just tilts his head.

“I guess I could run to the store real quick-“

He pulls at the hem of your shirt and you flinch, unaware of him getting so close. You didn’t even see him get off the bed.

“Well, I guess I could wash your clothes in the meantime, is that okay?”

He nods and you stand him in front of the heater and start rubbing the towel on his body. Then you slide your shirt over him, smiling at how small he looks in it.

“Let’s get your hair and teeth brushed,” You take his hand and walk back into the bathroom.

He takes your brush and you lift him up to sit on the sink, “I’ll be right back, just get your hair brushed.”

You take his clothes and toss them into the washer along with a few other outfits of yours. When you come back in the bathroom Michael is already brushing his teeth. You join him.

After you two finish up, you take your phone and sit on the couch with him.

“Hi, yeah, uhm, I’d like to order a, uhm, medium pizza,” You stammer on the phone.

The employee on the phone asks for the details and you stumble over your words, ordering one half of the pizza as just cheese for Michael and the other half with your favorite toppings.

“Would you like to add on an order of cinnamon twists?’

“Ooh,” You turn to Michael, “Should we get cinnamon twists for dessert?”

He smiles, nods.

“Yeah, please,” You say on the phone and work on completing the order.

You sigh when you hang up.

“I hate talking on the phone,” You say, bringing Michael in for a side hug, “It makes me super nervous!”

He smiles, still watching the TV.

“It’ll be here in about 30 minutes or so,” You place the blankets over you two, “You wanna watch something else? You can pick.”

He shakes his head, leaning into you as he follows the story on the TV. You put your arms around his shoulders and watch along.

When the pizza arrives, Michael practically sprints to the door.

“Woah there,” You snicker, grabbing your wallet as you walk to the front door. He holds onto your shirt as you pay for everything, bouncing on his heels.

When you close the door, Michael grabs the box from your hands and sprints to the couch, setting it on the table. It’s cute, almost concerning, that he’s so excited to eat. You open the box and place 2 slices of cheese pizza on a paper plate for him to eat. He snatches it and shoves the first slice into his mouth.

“I’m gonna get you some more juice, okay?”

He nods as you walk away.

You pour him 2 cups of apple juice, throwing away the now empty container. **!@#$%** When you approach him, concern really does wash over you as he eats like he’s been starved for days. Is it just a side effect of being a ghost that makes him hungry or was it something else? You’d rather not dwell on it. **!@#$%**

You hand him a cup and place the other on the table. You pop open a can of soda for yourself and start eating a slice.

 **!@#$%** He’s on his third when you’ve finished your first. To his credit he has slowed down a lot but still… **!@#$%**

You pull out your phone, open Chrome and continue reading the article.

_**!@#$%** Witnesses of the abuse stated that Loomis would go as far as taping pictures of his dead sister onto the walls of Myers’ cell. **!@#$%**_

_“It was gruesome, horrible,” according to Dr. Katherine Davis, “I tried to reason with him, but he was so intimidating that I would back down. I knew it was wrong, harmful, but I couldn’t do anything even though I was technically his superior.”_

You glance at Michael, he’s drinking his juice. God, this poor boy has endured so much.

 _ **!@#$%** Several others stated that Michael was denied meals_\-- **!@#$%**

 **!@#$%** You pause as you scroll, unable to read more, the image of a boy with sunken cheeks and dead eyes begins to appear from the bottom of your phone. You move your finger up just a bit more and immediately exit from Chrome when faced with the full picture. **!@#$%**

You feel sick, tears beginning to sting at your eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s so fucking horrible. You cover your face with your hands, let out a shuddering sigh.

You feel a tug at your sleeve and you slide your hands down your face and look at Michael- his chubby, rosy cheeks, mouth covered in crumbs, sauce and icing on his chin. He’s still chewing, his eyes looking at you with concern. He’s okay, for the most part, right now.

You run a hand through his hair, sighing in relief, “Hey, I’m, uh, I’m happy you’re here, kiddo.”

He smiles, scoots close to you and leans on your shoulder before grabbing another cinnamon twist to eat. You wrap an arm around him and you feel like you could cry.

You’re going to do anything and everything to protect this kid, who is filled to the brim with trauma, because, despite what Dr. Loomis planted in his head, he’s a beautiful soul- worthy of redemption.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only had Michael for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.
> 
> Still only have vague ideas about this story but I want to write Michael at all points in his life and writing about him as a cute kid was fun. Can't wait to write him as a deeply traumatized teen.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I really hope you like it so far, it gets cuter I promise lol


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